Getting Yourself Together
by Morana of Lake by Downs
Summary: Sequel to "Broken". Rachel is studying music in NY. She feels lonely and uninspired. Will that change when a certain familiar face shows up in NY with his band?
1. Faded Fireworks

**Hey guys! This is kind of a sequel to "Broken", my other story, but it's not absolutely necessary to read that one. Reminding you guys that English is not my first language, so please don't stone me for my mistakes :) But criticism AND positive reviews are welcome! Also, since I'm not American I don't know now the difference between grad school, college, or how long you're supposed to stay in Julliard, so if anyone wants to set me straight I would appreciate it. Rachel and the gang are about 20 years old in this story. **

**Thank you everyone who read Broken! On with the story now. **

Cause baby you're a firework  
>Come on show 'em what you're worth<br>Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"  
>As you shoot across the sky-y-y<p>

Rachel forced her eyes shut as she shouted out- with all the might her diaphragm would allow- those last verses of "Firework" by Katy Perry. She remembered the first time she heard that song. At that time, she really believed in herself. She really believed she had a shot at a magnificent future. She tried to focus on those feelings.

"No, no no! Stop! Rachel, where is the emotion? Perfect pitch, but I don't feel like you mean it. You have to make me believe that _you_ wrote the song!" Her teacher/coach said as she shook her head in frustration. "How many times do I have to tell you that? You are going to flunk this and I won't be able to save you."

Rachel already expected that. It was always like this in this class. After spending two years studying classical music and piano (on which she did well, but only that), her first "hands on" class had her excited at first. But after hearing from her teacher that she had a really trained voice, but lacked emotional depth, it really got to her nerves.

What happened to her? How come she was the golden girl at Mckinley High and nobody at Julliard? Was she really just mediocre amongst a bunch of losers and now that she was amongst real talents she just faded in the background?

She thought back to the time when she was younger. Emotions did seem to run high on those days. Everything was huge. Every moment. Every achievement. Every loss seemed to fill her to the brim.

But now…now high school seemed such a small world compared to where she was, living in Manhattan. Finn always told her that she was too talented for such a small town like Lima. He told her he believed in her. And now they barely talked to each other. All that talk about her being great, him believing in her, it all went down the drill. As much as he had expressed that he wished her good things and wanted to be around for her, he now didn't seem to care whether she lived or died. He hadn't called her or tried to contact her at all in the past year. Not even a call on her birthday. Not even a text message. Nothing, as though she had never existed in his life.

And boy, had that hurt. She just decided to give up on trying to contact him and being nice to him after that. She thought they could at least be friends, but apparently she was entirely dispensable to him.

It was a really weird feeling. She didn't miss being with him. What hurt the most was thinking that she hadn't been enough of an impact on his life, which sounded conceited, but hey, there had been plenty of "I love you"s and plans of a future together on their relationship. Whatever happened to that? "Screw him" she thought, walking down towards the subway, ready to go back to her small flat down in Soho. Her parents had spent a fortune on her, trying to make her comfortable.

It was Friday and she thought about the weekend. She was going to get a good rest…and then one more week just like this one she had just had. Great. Her social life was as good as her emotional singing right now. Her life was just _great_.

After a long, too-hot-for-your-skin shower, Rachel emerged from her room wearing flannel pajamas. She looked down and thought that she was a failure even at pajama-choosing. "Well, it's not as though someone is going to see it" she thought, resigned. And these days she had noticed that she had dark bags under her eyes and a little dullness to her expression. She was never satisfied whenever she looked at the mirror.

After fixing herself a bowl of cereal with some fruit as a substitute for dinner, she went – bowl, spoon and all- to check her e-mail on her notebook. And maybe Finn had made an update on facebook…?

No. She would not cyberstalk him. Not anymore, at least. She felt pathetic every time she accessed Finn's or Quinn's profile, trying to figure out what Finn was up to. But it was like and addiction, and also the only way for her to know, at least a little, of what went on in his life.

A window popped in front of her. It was Mercedes on skype. Rachel smiled, happy to be able to talk to someone and distract herself a little.

"Hey girl! Looking good! What are we up to?" Rachel said, clearly getting Mercedes' vibe.

"Rachel. Come on. I know you want to ask. Just ask me."

Rachel panicked. What she was talking about? Did she know that Rachel had been cyberstalking Finn, because she was so obsessed and couldn't ask anyone about him? Did everybody know? She was screwed if that was the case!

"Mercedes, I-I don't, listen, I…" Rachel began, tumbling on her words and getting into a panic.

"Girl, what are you saying? Aren't you gonna ask me if I made it?"

Then it hit Rachel. Mercedes was trying out for American Idol and today she had had an audition! Relief coursed through her.

"Of course 'Cedes, I was just getting there." Rachel put on her best smile. "So did you-"

"YES! I made it and they loved me!" Mercedes was referring to the tough judges.

"Mercedes, that is wonderful!" Rachel squealed in delight. At last some good news to cheer up her day.

"And how are things going down in NY girl?"

"You know when we were in high school and we got into college and we got all excited and stuff?"

"Uhum!" Mercedes said, with a smile.

"Well, I don't know. Whatever happened to that? Growing up sucks."

Mercedes' face fell a little. She sighed almost comically.

"You got it, girl. I'm listening."

"It's just that all of those dreams I hoped to achieve by coming here just seem….further away than ever. Life is so dull. The routine…is so unexciting. I feel numb."

"You know, there's a cure for that. It's called ice cream. Grab a spoon and have a go at it"

Rachel laughed a little. What she didn't say was that she had already tried that, but she just couldn't find any comfort in stuffing her face.

"You know you can always count on me right?" Mercedes told her. "I feel bad I can't do much from where I'm at. But I have to sing again for and can't go down to NY."

"Mercedes, don't say that. I'm fine. No need to worry. But you're always welcome in my house, if you ever feel like coming to NY. We can watch some Broadway shows together." Rachel said, brightening and smiling.

Mercedes smiled. "I'd like that." Mercedes looked thoughtful for a second. "I know. Puck is going to NY with his band. Why don't you call him and go see them? Seeing a familiar face wouldn't hurt, you know."

Rachel mentally flinched. She hadn't seen Puckerman in a while.

"Of course! I'll do that. Great idea, 'Cedes." She said, with a nervous smile, not meaning to call him at all.

"Great. Listen girl, I have to go to sleep. Put my diva on. You know the drill. But if you need something, don't hesitate on calling me, ok? OK. Bye now!"

Rachel said her goodbyes and went to bed as well. It was way past her usual bedtime and being sleepy in the next day wouldn't help her mood at all.

**That's it for now, hope to get the next chapter up soon! Please review? :) Love, Morana**


	2. Don't Know What You Think You're Doing

**Hi again! Has everybody watched this week's episode of Glee? It rocked, didn't it? And I read somewhere that there will be a scene for Puckleberry fans on the "Born This Way" chapter. Wonder what it will be? **

**Oh well, on with the story! I would like to thank everybody that read/reviewed/added this story to your favorites/story alert. Thank you guys! Now, I'm sorry the chapters are kinda short, but they look so much bigger on my word editor! This was 9 pages long. And I also revise each chapter like 5 times, that's why they take so long to be published even though they are so short. I hope you like it!**

Fridays were always mood-dampening for Rachel and this Friday was no exception. Living in a building with small apartments meant that the majority of her neighbors were young people. She had to put up with listening to her neighbors getting home at 2 am, drunk and loud, slamming doors. But the worst was when her next door neighbor decided to arrive home drunk and with female company. She would wake up with the noise, in the middle of the freaking night, only to be reminded that she never got any male company in her apartment. Well, there was Jesse, but he didn't count.

Yes, she was talking about Jesse, her ex-boyfriend. Who turned out to be gay. And now he was the star of the Broadway Musical "Spring Awakening". She was jealous. Very. Very jealous. But they also had gotten quite close, neither really knowing anyone in NY, so it turned out to be a good thing when she accidentally ran into him at a Barnes & Noble. She was waiting in line, to pay for a Barbra biography, when he called her name. One look at him and she was ready to throw the heavy book at his conceited head. But then he took her for coffee, apologized, and she realized that in the end, it didn't matter what he did to her. What Finn had done to her had hurt so much more, even though he technically hadn't done anything wrong.

So when this Friday came, Rachel decided it was time to get out of her funk. She wouldn't spend another Friday night at home, listening to her neighbors getting a life. So she called Jesse and invited him to hang out. He suggested a bar in Brooklyn, saying it was a common place for his co-stars to hang out. She thought that was a good idea, if she wanted to be in the business someday, she'd better become acquainted with the actors.

She had never been to that bar, and, upon arrival, she immediately knew she would never come back either. It was a dark place with about 15 people inside it, including Jesse, alone at the bar. So much for meeting new people, she thought.

Rachel went over to where he was, looking around, resigned. She sat on the stool next to him, and smiled. "Jesse! It's so good to see you!" He looked at her, apparently a little drunk already, smiling broadly. "Rach! Darling, I missed you" And kissed her profusely on the cheek, all the while hugging/holding on to her.

"Jesse" - she said, a little breathless from his affectionate ways- " is this the first time you've come here?" She said, taking a look around. She mentally shuddered.

"Ah, no Rach – he noticed her looking around, nervously, at the lack of eligible company - It's just too early for anyone to have arrived yet. You are going to meet my new colleague. He's dreamy and there's a tag on his underwear with my name on it." Rachel laughed a little at her friend's predatory ways. He went on with his story, describing what the guy looked like.

They talked for a while, mostly of little things of their daily life, like where they liked to shop for groceries or go for a cupcake. Then, Rachel told him about her difficulties at singing and he just shoved a glass filled with scotch towards her. She looked down at it, carefully, amused, and pretended to take a sip.

Just as she was about to start on the subject of Finn, Jesse looked up above her head, a gleeful look about his eyes. "Tom!- he yelled - Rach, this is Tom" he said, standing up, and then coming close to her left ear "the hottie I was telling you all about" he whispered. Rachel looked at him, knowing that her night had ended. "Ok Jess. Call me tomorrow, ok?" She yelled at his already retreating form, right next to Tom's silhouette. "I want the details" she mouthed.

Rachel turned back to the bar, now completely alone, and thought about what she had just said. "I don't really want the details". Her friend was dirty and she knew it.

Rachel stood there for a while, just looking at the spot where Jesse had been. She then laughed at herself a little. Her nights never worked out the way she had expected. She would just have to get used to that. She looked intently at her untouched scotch and decided that she would drink it and go home, in a cab. Resolutely, she picked up the glass and took one long gulp of the burning liquid.

"Slow down, Berry. It's barely 10 p.m." a voice said to her left.

Rachel was prepared to tell him off, until she realized the voice belonged to one Noah Puckerman. And indeed, when she turned to her left, there he was, looking at her with that familiar smirk. She then remembered that Mercedes had warned her about him coming to NY, but really? What were the odds of him coming to the same place she was at? She sat there, just staring at him, and he must've thought she was retarded, because it took a really long time for her to say something. It was just that it had been so long since she had seen anyone from her home town that she went into some sort of dream haze, not really believing what she was seeing.

She recomposed herself, cleared her throat, and asked him the most obvious question: "What are you doing here Noah?" He smiled at her, and she realized how they had fallen at a familiar pattern: he would try to be funny and say something to bother her, and she would snap at him and call him Noah. She smiled back at him in spite of herself.

"I'm performing here with my band" He then looked around, noticed there were only ten or so costumers by now. "You might want to stick around…I wouldn't want to lose fifty percent of my female crowd" he told her, pointing to the only other female in the room, a chick with green hair, who looked bored out of her mind, sitting on an old couch. She looked over to where he pointed, and reminded herself to never step foot in this bar again.

"I might stay" Rachel said coolly, taking another gulp of the scotch. God that tasted awful. "What is the name of your band?" "We don't have one yet" Said Puckerman, leaning against the counter and talking quickly to the barman. He got a bottle of beer and drank straight from it. "We're up. Be a good groupie and scream my name, will you?" He winked at her. Rachel rolled her eyes, a little smirk on her lips. "Sure, I make a habit of embarrassing myself" she said, more to herself than to his retreating back. She _did_ make a habit of embarrassing herself.

Just as she was observing him set up the microphone and his guitar equipment, she heard the barman calling her. "Hey miss! That guy told me to give you this. It's on him" and she turned around to see another glass of scotch next to her empty one. She rolled her eyes again, took the glass and smelled it a little. It even smelled like pure alcohol, which caused her to wrinkle her nose. She looked again towards the stage at Puckerman, who had been observing her. She rolled her eyes once more – her eyes would soon pop out of their orbits - and raised her glass towards him, in mock cheer. "What the hell" she thought and took a long gulp, figuring she might as well try to enjoy herself.

Her gulp was the cue for the band to start playing the first guitar chords of a song that sounded vaguely familiar to her but that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Puck started singing, and boy, did he have stage presence. At least a lot more than his band mates, who just kind of faded in the background. She looked at him. He had certainly practiced on those years they had been apart. He was much more confident with his voice. Well, confidence had never been an issue with Puckerman, but now he simply filled the club with his timber. And he knew it.

Rachel stared at him, lost in those thoughts, sipping on her drink every now and then. She was well aware of her staring, and he was starting to notice it as well. She just couldn't help it. He just looked so…_grown. _She knew she looked older as well, she felt more feminine, more secure. But it was as though he had aged a lot faster than she had. When she looked at him she had no doubt that he had indeed become a man. She thought he looked – even though she would never admit it out loud – _damn sexy. _And it wasn't just because he was singing Generator, by Foo Fighters, one of her favorite songs that weren't show tunes.

She swayed a little on her stool which caused him to look at her with a funny expression. Then, without missing the lyrics, he looked down at her hands and smirked a little. Confused, she looked down too, only to realize she had drank the whole glass of the whisky he had bought her. Damn him, she thought, groggily putting the glass down. After that alcohol awareness week in high school, she had never gotten drunk again. Sure, she would drink a little bit on occasion, but never to the point where it altered her senses. But now she was _drunk_. She still remembered how it felt and there was no denying it. She had absently-minded sipped her drink and with each gulp the burning on her throat had become more tolerable. So she had finished the whole thing without even realizing it.

And that was probably the reason why she did what she did next. Puckerman had come to her side, without her noticing, microphone in hand. When she did notice, he was already announcing that she would be singing the next song! She tried to make sense of it and deny the request, but her mind was foggy, and she ended up following him to the stage.

By now it was already around midnight, and the bar had crowded considerably. It was probably one of those indie bars that were so in right now and she had just been unaware that it existed. She saw now that there had been posters put up around the bar, announcing that a band from Ohio would play there tonight. She could've put two and two together and avoid the place altogether just to be safe. But now there was no time to regret it, because she had headlights in her face and she had to choose a song to sing.

She had never had ANY issues performing in public. But she wasn't herself right now and she did not like the idea of performing to a large crowd without doing her best, without being on her best shape. Choose a song, she told herself. There was sweat in her palms. I hate Puckerman, she thought. _Focus. Just choose a damn song and be done with it. _

In the back of her head, a song started to play. Without her really commanding it to, her mouth opened up to sing "Hey Annie you're late, and Maya I'm here, the boys in the band decide to walk through the door, savor the air, The girls on the floor, I've come here to stare. We've come here to stare". She looked back, daringly, at Puck, who looked at her with disbelief in his eyes, and maybe that was exactly what prompted her to go on.

She couldn't believe it herself that she was singing "Stripper" from Soho Dolls. Maybe she was dreaming, because she certainly felt that her brain was in a foggy dream state by now. The alcohol had definitely hit her brain with its full capacity. She was almost laughing with her performance.

She went from her side of the stage to Puck's side, and started dancing around him, all the while looking at him to see his reaction. She turned her back to him, one hand up in the air, going all the way down to the floor, singing "Don't know what you think you're doing to me". He wanted to mock her by making her sing, drunk, on the stage? He wanted to see the wild Rachel? He had another thing coming at him. She was angry with him for putting her in that situation, but she also started enjoying herself. He was surprised by the way she was acting and she liked that look in his eyes. She was tired of being good, predictable Rachel. Dumpable Rachel.

She even took off her coat, in what she thought was a sexy manner, and threw it at him, smiling deviously. It obviously stopped there. She was drunk, not dumb. "I hope no one has filmed it" she thought as the song ended to the cheering of the audience. A small giggle escaped her mouth. Imagine Finn seing that.

Puckerman took the microphone from her hand, looking decidedly guilty, and told the crowd "Thank you! We will be here all week!" Rachel, realizing what he had said and unable to control herself shouted "What? All week?" Puckerman then said, suddenly with a serious expression "Yeah, Rach. How do you feel about taking me for a city tour?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and proceeded to escort her towards the door. Rachel groaned and held her head with one hand. She was getting a headache and it wasn't from a hangover. Not yet at least.

Puckerman looked at her worriedly when she started holding her head. She was swaying a bit as well. So he held her closer, and she looked up at him with foggy eyes, confused. Now she knew she would have to face him sober after almost giving him a lap dance.

Behind them a couple of guys had been advancing towards her with obviously no good intentions. The look Puck gave them halted their progress. He hovered around her, protectively.

"Berry, let's get you to your home." He told her decidedly, trying to get a cab and keep her from falling at the same time. She looked at him, confused for a moment, and then shook her head vigorously. "No, Puckerman, I'm fine. I'll just get a cab and go straight home" And then she started yelling, all too loudly for the necessity of the situation, "Taxi!" and started waving her right arm like a maniac, which caused her to step out of the curb into the street. Puckerman grabbed her shoulders and took her out of the way just as an angry driver passed really fast just inches from her, telling her off. "Let me do that for you" he told her patiently. Rachel was annoyed by this, but she couldn't form a coherent argument not to let him do it. Also she couldn't help but notice that he seemed to have gotten buffer since the last time they saw each other, but she was sure that had nothing to do with her lack of coherence.

When their cab arrived, and Puckerman sat in right beside her she didn't even think to protest. It wasn't like him to do these kind of things. The Puck she knew would probably have laughed as she fell flat on her face on the sidewalk. On a second thought, though, she was being unfair. He had stood up for her on occasions that no one else would. Not even Finn. What was up with that she would never know.

She was getting sleepy (probably from the alcohol, she reasoned) and her head was getting heavier. Before she knew how that proximity had come to be, she was leaning against Noah. He was so warm and she was so tired. She closed her eyes and felt herself relax.

In what seemed like no time at all, they arrived at the front of her building (when had she given her address to the cab driver? She questioned herself) She said she was fine, that he could go now, but he insisted on walking her to her door. The ride on the elevator to her floor was a quiet one.

It took her a while and several key drops later to open her door. "Take that, neighbor" she thought, feeling victorious to be the one making noise for a change. She let him inside her apartment, went inside and then proceeded to lock the door. "There's no need to lock it, I'm leaving already" Rachel felt a little disconcerted with that. "I'll offer you a cup of coffee" she said, suddenly a bit ashamed but not knowing why. She staggered towards him, trying to make up an argument for him to accept her coffee. He had helped her after all. But as she got closer to him, she tripped, almost falling over, but he caught her in time, which in turn caused him to lose his balance and he ended up pressing her against the door.

She looked straight into his eyes, mere inches from hers, and watched his gaze shift. He had very expressive eyes, and at the moment he looked like he could _devour_ her. She felt a little afraid of the intensity of his gaze, but that only lasted a second. He backed away from her, his gaze shifting to the floor. "Later, Berry." He said, running his hand through the back of his head. With that, he went out the door, which closed with a light "click".

Rachel stood there for a couple of minutes, then went into her bathroom, looked at herself in the mirror, not knowing what she was supposed to do. She was left without understanding the strange exchange that had happened the entire evening. But she was still drunk, and her thoughts just wavered in and out of her head, not staying there long enough for any of it to make sense. She put on an old t-shirt that had been lying on her bed. It had been Finn's and she had been meaning to throw it away, but it would do for this night. She sat on her comfortable bed, grabbed a pillow, and pretty much passed out there.

The minute Puckerman shut Rachel's door behind him he let out a breath he didn't even knew he was holding. He sighed, and then went to get the elevator. It was a long walk to his hotel.

**Please review :) Your feedback is really important for the quality of the story. Also, what should be the name of Puck's band? Please post suggestions :) I'm already working on the next chapter, hopefully it will take less than a week to go up. Hopefully. **


	3. No More Lonely Nights

**Hi! I know, it took me slightly more than one week…I just like being a couple of chapters ahead, just in case I have to alter something on the previous chapters. I was quite focused on chapter five. Thank you all the reviewers for the words of encouragement! Hope you like this chapter :)**

Rachel woke up the next day with a killer headache and a hazy memory of the previous night's events. She remembered singing "Stripper" and dancing to Puckerman. A red hot wave of shame hit her. What had she been thinking?

She just hadn't been thinking was the conclusion she came to. She wasn't used to so much alcohol on her system, and even though she knew that, she had allowed herself to get to that level of grogginess. And know she was paying for it.

She stumbled from her bed, getting out of her darkened room into the brightness of her living/kitchen. She immediately regretted it, groaning from the wave of pain that it caused. And then there was the nausea. She ran back towards her bathroom and almost didn't make it in time.

Sitting on the cold floor tiles, she felt intoxicated. If regret could kill, she would be dead. Why had she put herself through that? She really hated feeling sick, especially when it attacked her stomach. She swore to herself she would never drink that much again.

She did feel a bit better after pushing it all out, though. Now only her headache remained and a feeling of confusion. So she washed her mouth, brushed her teeth and decided to maybe try to drink some juice or something.

Walking to the kitchen was torture. Her head hurt with every step. She stopped midway, sat on the cold floor of her living room, her back touching the cold wall. The cold helped her a little, so she just stayed there for what seemed like half an hour. But then her intercom rang, taking her out of the – somewhat- comfortable spot.

Rachel gingerly got up to answer it, groaning because her head immediately went back into hurt mode. That was weird. It wasn't unusual for her to receive books from Barnes and Noble, or even a little lipstick from Sephora (she liked ordering stuff online) but she couldn't remember having ordered anything that hadn't already arrived. Maybe they had gotten the wrong apartment.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice sounding hoarse even to her own years. "Berry? You sound like death. Let me in." Puck? She thought, confusion and embarrassment washing over her again. She tried to tell him to go away, but her head hurt so much that she didn't even pay attention to what she answered so a little later he was at her door.

She opened the door to him and he looked her up and down, and that's when she realized she was once again embarrassing herself. She had only Finn's large t-shirt on (true, it went almost all the way to her knees, but still), and probably smudged make up and messy hair. She got irritated at him for seeing her like that. "What do you want, Puckerman?" she said, annoyed.

"Calm down Rachel. I just figured that you would be hung over and came here to offer you my services" She looked at him, disbelief obvious in her eyes. Anger boiled insider her. "And whose fault is it that I am like that? What are you trying to do? Do you think that it is funny, going out of your way to mess with that dorky girl, Rachel Berry? We're not in high school anymore! You're not the cream of the crop anymore!" Her voice built up in a crescendo so that she shouted the last part. She looked at the other doors on the hallway and realized that her neighbors might be hearing. Embarrassed, she walked away from the door, letting Puck in even though she was mad at him. "Hey – he said, after she closed the door – I'm only trying to help. It's not like I forced you to do anything." He was getting mad as well and his voice grew slightly louder. She winced from the volume, and he threw her a guilty look, even though he was saying otherwise.

Not taking the standing anymore, Rachel touched her forehead to the wall. She was clearly in no shape for arguments. He looked worriedly at her.

"Look, just point me to your kitchen and sit there" he motioned to her black leather couch in the middle of her small living room. She grunted. "Kitchen's over there, you know where it is" she pointed with her head, immediately regretting doing so, because it caused white searing pain to shoot through her forehead. He looked uncomfortable at the mention of last night's events on her apartment, but Rachel didn't notice. Too tired to argue, she went to sit on the floor, by the sofa, relieved that she was resting against the cold again. She felt quite dizzy and her blood pressure was definitely low.

She heard him picking some stuff from her kitchen drawers, her refrigerator and mixing it all on her blender. She flinched at the noise it made. Sometime later, he walked over to where she was and presented her with a glass of some kind of red juice. "Drink it. You'll feel better, I promise." She took it from his hands, smelled it and made a face. She tried to give it back to him, shaking her head. "There's no way I'm drinking this. It smells putrid" Puck smiled at her, with an "I know better than you" look.

"Drink it. Now" He told her commandingly, and she found out she couldn't argue. What the hell. She couldn't feel any worse. She held her nose and drank it in one gulp, to keep from tasting it too much. The aftertaste was terrible. She made a depreciative noise, unable to stop herself from putting her tongue out like a little child.

And suddenly she had to make a run to the bathroom because a big wave of nausea just hit her.

Puckerman watched her go, sat at the couch, not looking worried at all, and just waited. After a while, he heard her turning on the shower, and about half an hour later she emerged, fully clothed, visibly better. She came on to where he was, stood right in front of him. He looked up at her from his place on the couch.

"Are you f* trying to poison me Puckerman?" His eyes went wide at her swear word. Rachel Berry had always been a girly girl. At least she had been one in high school.

Instead of answering, he looked her up and down and said, smirking "I preferred the t-shirt. Or maybe the dress you were wearing last night." She went red at this and slapped his arm, unable to restrain. "Stop it!" She narrowed her eyes at him and he looked back at her sheepishly. She said and took a sit. Feeling a lot better now that her headache had subsided, Rachel couldn't keep her anger at high levels for so long.

"So…what the hell was that you gave me?" she asked him, referring to the magical juice with healing properties he had fixed for her. "Secret recipe. You're better off not knowing it. Told you it would work though" She looked down at her wrists, grateful even though it was mostly his fault she had been like that. But she felt so much lighter than before. "Do you want to go get breakfast or something?" She asked him, a bit self consciously. "Sure" he said, turning towards the door.

They took the elevator and Rachel was pretty sure that it was the most uncomfortable ride of their lives. Both kept looking at the changing numbers on top of the door, silently. She wanted to be anywhere but there. She felt bad for yelling at him and blaming him. It's not like he forced her to drink or to sing…and he had been nice to her, bringing her home and then healing her… even if it was out of guilt.

By the time they reached the street Rachel simply looked at him and said "Starbucks?" to which he silently nodded, and she directed them to the nearest one, just around the corner of the next block.

Puckerman opened the door and let her through first, and she silently thanked him. There was no line so they went straight to the register. Rachel ordered coffee and a muffin. She went to the glass counter to choose a flavor. The blueberry muffin seemed good, she decided quickly, and went back to the register to pay. But as she looked to the right she saw that Puck had his wallet open, which meant that he already had paid for her order. She went to him and opened her mouth to protest, but he just looked at her in a way that said "don't". She shut her mouth and sighed. She knew he felt guilty, so she let him.

They waited till they got their food and went to sit down at one of the many empty tables. "How come you learned that recipe?" she asked him as she filled her coffee with sugar. He put his cup down, seemed to ponder her question for a while. Rachel felt uncomfortable with his prolonged silence. She looked him straight in the eyes and said, frankly, her voice hard "Ok. We don't need to talk. We'll just finish the guilty meal and go each our own way." She sounded bitchy even to her own years, but she couldn't help it, he had gone out of his way to mess with her and now acted like _she_ was the annoying one.

He looked like her previous headache had been contagious and he had just caught it. He looked down and ran a hand over where his Mohawk had been once. Now he had really short hair, but old habits die hard.

He looked at her with a serious expression. "Look, Rachel, I'm sorry. I did try to mess with you yesterday, but I had no idea that you would actually drink it. Or that you would get that drunk" She blushed at that. "I meant no harm…we're friends…I like you" She noticed a boyish twinkle in his eyes that made her remember one time when Santana said that nobody liked Rachel, and Puck claimed that it wasn't true, that he liked her. She didn't know why, but she blushed both at the memory and at his present declaration. It was her turn to sigh. She felt like a bitch. He _was _trying to make up for last night, and it hadn't even been his entire fault. It wasn't like he was an evil stranger. She knew him. He messed up sometimes but he was a good person. A person with whom she had grown up with.

She looked up again, feeling more at easy. "Noah. Just. Forget it. Let's not talk about it anymore" She pushed her chair nearer his and leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. He looked back at her, surprised with her actions, but pleased nonetheless. "Noah" she said, smiling warmly "it's so good to see you in NY. What brings you here?"

He smiled back at her. "Well, that actually answers two of your questions" She looked confused. He took a sip from his coffee.

"When we graduated, everybody went their separate ways. You came here, Finn and Quinn went to Seattle, Artie went to California, and well, you know the rest." Rachel did know. Most of them had gotten scholarships out of Glee club, sports, or because of high grades. For a group of underdogs they sure had shown their merit. But Puck…well, she guessed that the whole ATM "incident" had undermined his chances of getting accepted at college. She knew he went nowhere.

"So I was left alone at Lima, with no job, no perspective…"he trailed off, a pained look crossing his eyes as he remembered those days. I tried to go back to the cleaning pool business but…that can only get you so far". He said, reclining back in his chair, taking another gulp of his coffee. "And then I started spending whatever money I had in booze, gambling…one time I drove all the way to Atlanta, hoping to earn some money. Obviously I lost all I had, including my car, and had to hitchhike my way back to Ohio" He smirked at his own stupidity. "Sometimes I stayed the whole day inside. Sometimes I didn't return home for days". He told her, looking down. Rachel flinched at hearing this. She had no idea. He looked up again, with a sad smile. "I woke up most mornings the way you did today, so I had to figure something out"

"Until one day…" He continued, deep in thought. "It was Christmas time and Finn came back to Ohio spend it with his mother. He found me trashed like…pretty much like you were today" He smiled at her. She smiled a little, blushing again. "He got furious after finding out what I was doing to myself and lectured me for hours. I was really ashamed…but it was what I needed to turn my life around." He swallowed, a bit hesitant to continue. Rachel lightly touched his hand with hers. He looked down at their hands, but she removed hers quickly.

"I started thinking about what I could do to make a living, and I ended coming up with the idea for a website that sold discount coupons." Rachel raised her eyebrows at this. These websites where pretty popular nowadays and she heard that the owners made a fortune out of them. "I started off small with coupons for Breadstix and the little commerce in Lima, than I expanded it to the whole estate of Ohio. Now we have offers all the way down to Florida. Everybody helped me a lot at first, I had to travel everywhere and convince business owners it was good publicity for them. I actually came here to talk a couple of businessman into advertising on my website, expand it to NY. When I created the website there weren't many of that kind around. Now the web is bursting with similar ones, but I manage a comfortable living nonetheless. The guys in my band…they're also my associates. I'm the CEO of " He looked happy whilst thinking about his business. Rachel looked at him and noticed that he was indeed wearing pretty nice clothes. He still had the same style – leather jackets and all – except that now his clothes looked of a more refined quality.

She had pitied him at first, as he told her about the difficulties he had. She couldn't imagine herself being stuck in her hometown. Actually, she already had. Having to go to all the places she had gone with Finn, while imagining him with Quinn in Seattle. But then she felt proud of Puck. She had known him as a troubled teenager but he had made it this far already.

Whilst Rachel herself had been in NY, with the knife and the cheese in her hands and all she did was complain about her life. She sighed in spite of herself.

"Noah, that is wonderful." She told him with a spark in her eyes. "I mean, I'm happy for you, but I'm also a bit ashamed of myself. I haven't accomplished nearly as much" It was his turn to cover her hands, which where over her crossed knees, with his. He simply told her: "We are young" She smiled at him. "Plus, you can always become a stripper." He winked at her. She rolled her eyes, blushing furiously and scolding herself for not seeing it coming. She eventually smiled. He was still the same after all.

Later that day Rachel sat in her bed and thought about her days in Glee Club. Even though it had been difficult at first, she eventually found her footing. But now…she pretty much always had lunch alone. It was something silly, she knew it, but it was the worst part of her day. Depending on where she went, she would get pity stares. Eventually she found out that she could just take her fruit cup or tofu or whatever it was she had chosen for lunch that day to Bryant Park, her favorite spot in NYC. She would eat and then read a book for a little while. Or maybe do both at the same time. That way, she didn't feel as lonely.

Puck said his goodbyes to her after their shared breakfast, claiming he had a meeting in twenty minutes. She did some vocal training then, had her lunch and now, at the end of Saturday afternoon she had nothing whatsoever to do. It was on such occasions that she would hunt for a new book, a new recipe or the worst of it - look up Finn's Facebook Profile.

She sighed. Remembering Glee was great and all but it had the downside of reminding her of Finn. Was she crazy for still thinking about him after almost three years apart? Did she need mental help? Maybe, she reasoned with herself. Well, as long as it's not interfering with my life or threatening the lives of others, I have nothing to worry about. She sighed.

Oh god, those _were_ creepy thoughts.

Thankfully her phone rang to break her out of her reverie. She looked at the caller's id. "Hello Noah".

Puck smiled on the phone. Rachel was the only one who called him Noah. "So, my Jewish-American Princess. Are you coming tonight or what?" She smiled at him calling her that. "Coming where?" She told him in a sassy voice. "To hear me sing and swoon the crowd". "Ok. That's so not a date. And I'm not drinking tonight" she reminded him. "Ok. I'm so not picking you up" he answered, continuing her game.

After receiving the address and changing, Rachel headed towards Greenwich Village. True to his word, Puck didn't show up to get her, but he was waiting for her at the club's door. Lucky for her, because there was a line outside and a mean hired security who wasn't in the mood to let anyone in. But Puck easily put her inside by telling him "She's with me" and the doors immediately opened for her. Rachel could see a glimpse of jealousy on the girls (still standing in line) who complained when she got in. Weather it was jealousy for her getting in before them or for her being with Puck she didn't know. Bu she had to admit that he looked pretty good with those diesel jeans and black t-shirt.

Rachel was slightly scared to see how many people were already inside the building. "Puck – what's this, what is all of this?" He looked at her, half amused, half annoyed to see she thought it weird to have so many people there to see him play. "There's a bunch of people playing tonight. Including a couple of local bands. That's why this place is so crowded. It's good publicity to play in here" He explained to her "We are doing the opening number for them. For free" He seemed annoyed at having to confess that to her. She looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the band" he told her, at last, taking her elbow and leading her through the crowd.

The evening went well, with Puck's band covering a couple of The Strokes' songs and performing an original one called "Rooftops". Rachel thought it was pretty good – and they were way better then the bands that followed them up. But Rachel would never admit that to Puckerman, obviously. The audience seemed to have enjoyed them as well. As a matter of fact, even now there were a couple of girls asking for Puck to autograph their bras. Rachel rolled her eyes.

The whole band plus Rachel decided to go to a diner that stayed open late, not far from the club. Since none of them had had anything to eat, they were starving. Just as Rachel was putting maple syrup on her stack of pancakes, Puck went back to their table looking smug. "How come nobody asks me to autograph their underwear?" asked Nick, the blonde who played drums. He reminded Rachel of Sam and looked pretty cute, in Rachel's opinion. "Hey, be grateful. A dude once asked me to autograph his –"one look at Rachel's shocked face stopped David, the guitarist, from going on. They all laughed, even Rachel herself. She was feeling pretty at ease with them, even though she was aware that they had all seen her drunken act the other night.

"So Rachel, Puck told us you went to high school with him. What are doing in NY now?" Rachel opened her mouth to answer Nick, when Puck interrupted "She's probably teaching at Juilliard by now." Rachel blushed slightly. "I'm actually getting a Bachelor of Music degree. Or at least trying to" she sobered, remembering her recent setbacks. "And how did you all met Puck?" They all looked at one another and Richard, the keyboard player, opened his mouth to speak, but one look from Puck silenced him. "You know, here and there" Rick continued, lamely. Rachel thought it was weird, but decided not to press on. She was having a nice night so far and didn't want it to turn sour.

They talked and laughed for a couple hours more and Rachel felt they were very receptive to her. Even though she was having a good time, she couldn't help a yawn she barely had time to suppress. Puck noticed it, much to her dismay, and immediately suggested they went back to their hotel, because they had three more performances that week and had to practice a lot. Rachel thought it was delicate of him not to make it about her that their night was at an end. She added that to the ever-growing list of oddities she spotted on Puckerman's behavior.

She said her goodbyes to the members of the band, but Puck stayed behind with her, urging them to go back to their hotel first. She told him she would get a cab, but he insisted on walking her home. She accepted it, and they walked silently side by side.

Rachel was the first one to break it.

"Who are you anyway? Getting me home two nights in a row?" "I'm surprised how lowly you think of me" Puck said, half jokingly, half annoyed. Rachel laughed. "You're the one who decided to go Superman all of a sudden" "You think I'm superman?" He said, huskily, next to her ear. She knew he was teasing her. She blushed and then snapped at him. "Noah!" He laughed and grabbed her by the shoulder. They kept on walking. "I've missed you, midget". Rachel blushed even more. "Even if you think I'm a scumbag" Rachel sighed. "That's not it" she said. He was surprised by her tone. He looked at her. She was looking down, embarrassed.

He stopped and turned towards her. "What is it then?" He asked her seriously. She looked the other way. She had had such a great time that night. She didn't know why all of a sudden she started feeling bad. She tried to tell him it was nothing, but he wouldn't have any of it once he saw that her eyes had watered. She reprimanded herself for being such a fool.

"You know, being in New Directions was wonderful. It was amazing to be a part of that, an experience I will never forget. No matter what, we were there for each other. Like a real family. But I always felt like the…the annoying little cousin. You guys did so much for me but…I wasn't anyone's favorite company. I was just so…ambitious, I guess that drove people away" She looked down, not sure she had made herself clear. Puck looked at her, a little incredulously. "Wait – are you telling me you think you don't deserve being well treated?" Her eyes went wide. "No! That's not – she sighed – well, yes. No. I don't know. Maybe not" She looked down. "I acted the way I did and now I have nothing. I auditioned a couple of times but got nothing. Nobody thinks anything of me at Juilliard. I haven't made any friends in here. They're pretty much a bunch of alternative snobs from the theater and…I'm alone" That was the part that hurt the most. She hated her self-pity. She stopped talking, looked up at Puckerman, took a deep breath and said "Shall we?" But he didn't obey. He looked down at her intently, took a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "You're not alone".

He turned forward, silently gave her his arm, which she took, and they continued down the dark street towards her apartment.

**So…what did you guys think? I'd love to hear from you =D **

**For those of you who have been to NY, what are your favorite places/things to do while there? I've been there a couple of times and I love going to the Metropolitan and to Central Park :)**


	4. You Should Play the Way You Feel

**Hey guys…it took me a little longer than it should have to update this. I'm sorry! Also..isn't "Rolling in the Deep" the best duet ever? **

**As always, thank you for all the support, it really keeps me motivated in my writing! Hope you enjoy it.**

It was Friday again, but Rachel barely noticed it. Since that last Saturday, when Puck walked her home, they had seen each other almost every day. He showed up to take her to breakfast, lunch, one of his performances, and even showed up on Juilliard one day with a brown bag, a couple of vegan sandwiches and fresh strawberries he picked at Dean & Deluca.

So it was in a good mood that Rachel walked down the halls of Juilliard as she hummed to a song that had been in her head for a while (but which she couldn't identify), her melodic voice filling her personal space. She had just performed "Head over Feet" by Alanis Morissette, and her vocal coach, Anna, had complimented her for it. Well, maybe complimented wasn't quite the term. Anna had said "improved somewhat". Well, it was still a rose in the desert.

Anna had taken a liking to her, and she was glad of the chance. She hadn't really excelled on anything at Juilliard, mostly because she simply didn't have her mind into it. She was in such a state when she left Lima that she wasn't even sure she wanted to come to New York anymore. But she did what she had to do. And when, upon arriving at Juilliard, she didn't immediately shine, that furthered her disappointment in herself whilst dimming her academic chances. But Anna had taken her in and given her a chance. So she was quite afraid of disappointing her and quite happy when she pleased her. And today had been a somewhat good day.

Rachel stood outside the choir room, smiling as she remembered the praise and absentmindedly running her hands through her hair. She sighed in contentment, preparing to leave as she wondered what she would fix up for her dinner. There were plenty of things since I barely ate in this week, she thought, still combing her hair with her hands. There is even some soy yogurt that I think expires today…

She was cut out of her reverie by the sight of Noah, who suddenly appeared out of nowhere (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately), right in front of her. He was looking straight at her in a weird manner. He looked…_transfixed _somehow. She stopped combing her hair, embarrassed to be caught like that. He was staring at her, in a way that made her think that he knew the color of her bra. "Noah" she said, half annoyed at him, half annoyed at herself "don't do that. It's irritating." "What? - he said, feigning innocence – I thought you liked it when I brought you food" he held up a paper bag. Her mind went bogus. "You said you brought food?" She had just realized how famished she was and hastily took the brown bag from him. He had the ability to find really delicious vegetarian food. She did enjoy cooking on weekends, but she didn't have the time to do it (or the energy) during the week, and since it was harder to find truly vegetarian fast food, on most days she would eat very little. Sometimes she would even eat eggs, when she felt really weak.

"Hey, apparently no one was feeding you before I came here, gremlin" he said laughingly, but he had noticed she had gotten quite thinner. And she wasn't someone who needed to lose weight in the first place. Rachel smiled at him a little. It was weird to think that he was taking care of her. But that was what he was doing, and she was, oddly, growing used to it. She hadn't felt lonely this week nor snooped on Finn's Facebook profile.

And that also raised the question of when Puck would return to Ohio, which she knew would probably be soon. For some reason she wanted to avoid the subject altogether. "Yes, well, are you going to deny me the goodies now?" She said to tease him. "I would never, and you know it" he said meaningfully, putting both hands on his pockets and looking intently at her. She looked down, smiling in embarrassment. Then he looked upwards. "It's actually a pretty good day. I thought we could go eat at Central Park." She looked at him, a smile making its way to her face. It was indeed a good idea, and soon they were heading towards the park.

They ate what Puck had brought them – including the delicious strawberries from before – and had a pretty pleasant afternoon under the nice shade of the park's trees. Rachel told him all about her day at Juilliard, and he listened to her intently. He then, in turn, told her about the meeting he had had that day, and how he had already closed a deal with Olive Garden. Rachel was impressed. Olive Garden was a popular chain, and if he had clients that big, then business must be going really well. She listened in fascination as he told her about the way he had convinced them to go for his website. He talked excitedly about it and it was just obvious that he was proud of himself. Rachel found that was an oddly pulling quality. She felt drawn to his self-confidence and go getter attitude. She would never admit it, but she had made excuses to touch his hand quite often throughout the afternoon. He didn't seem to notice it was on purpose.

As the sun started setting and the day drew to a close, Rachel said she was tired and he escorted her home, as usual. But not before stopping on a Barne's and Noble on the way and Rachel purchasing a cookies recipes book. It was one of those big books, filled with pictures inside and with an elaborate cookie on the pink cover. "Are you going to bake for me, Berry?" He teased her, as always. "Keep dreaming" she said, throwing him a sideways glance, but smiling a little in wonder nonetheless.

He seemed reluctant to let her go. He curiously was very intrigued by every window on every shop in the way to her place and constantly made her stop. Rachel was finding it amusing, to say the least. What was he up to? Until finally there was no other way and her building appeared right in front of their eyes. She turned to him, to thank him, and _maybe _ask him to come up for tea or simply to hang out. Her heart beat nervously.

But as she was getting ready to say those words, he beat her to it. "How do you feel about going out tonight?" He said, leaning casually against the wall of her building, looking intently at her. She instantly brightened. Then she realized that she was about to say "yes" in a very eager manner. _Get a grip Berry, _she told herself. "Sure – she said, coolly – I don't think I have plans tonight". He narrowed his eyes at her, throwing her a sarcastic look. She kept her smile steady, but now a little self consciously. She knew he realized that she _never _had any plans and therefore was just playing him. She decided to turn it in another direction. "So, are you going to play again tonight?" _Good Berry. Distract him. Show him a little cleavage, he'll forget it. _Shut up, she told herself. Gosh, she knew she was a little mental, but now she was developing another personality? And a nasty one too. He looked at her, confused but still smiling, and she smiled back at him, waiting for an answer. "Not really" he told her, looking down at her "David suggested me this bar/club that's supposedly good. I thought you might join me in trying it out."

Half an hour later Rachel was up in her apartment, wearing only a towel wrapped around her head and another around her body after a shower. She knew exactly what she would wear for tonight. She would wear _that dress._

She was making her way through to Juilliard as usual when she passed in front of a Banana Republic window and saw a gorgeous black dress. It came just above her knees with a closely fitted skirt. It had lacy sleeves and a conservative neckline, but it accentuated the waist beautifully. She instantly imagined herself inside that dress and decided, on an impulse, to buy it. It had been forever since she had felt the urge to buy something, so her wardrobe had pretty much remained the same for the past two years.

Now, as she watched herself on her bathroom's mirror and applied her makeup she decided it had been a good idea to buy the dress after all. She was usually modest, but this time, she decided she looked hot. She put on black high heel shoes and opened her wardrobe for the final touch – her purse. It was a classical Louis Vuitton that her dads had given her as a graduation gift. And it was perfect to go to that trendy place that Puck wanted to show her.

Soon enough he called her telling her he had arrived. She went down the elevator and saw him leaning against a yellow cab. He was smartly dressed in black social pants, a white shirt and a jacket thrown over one shoulder. _Hot._ She smiled towards him as hello and he opened the cab door for her. She went inside, feeling a little nervous. _Rachel, get a grip, _she thought. _It's Puck. You know him. Yeah, I know him, he gets into girls' pants on the first date. Okay, one, that's not a date and two, why are you talking to yourself again? Right, not healthy. Noted._

Rachel sighed. Her head was a mess. Puck looked at her, a "humor me" look in his eyes when he spoke to her "Are you saying something Rach?" Her eyes shot up in her lids, scared that he might have a hint on what was going on in her head. "No. No! Why are you asking?" He had an eyebrow raised. "Your lips were moving frantically just now." He had a knack for making her feel ashamed. "It's exercise. Part of my vocal practice" He smirked at her again in that way that said he had x-ray vision and was seeing her knickers. She looked out of the window to hide her red cheeks.

They finally arrived at a fancy building. Rachel opened her wallet to pay for the cab, but Puck would have none of it. With one hand he held her down on the seat by the waist (so she would make no further attempts to hand her money to the driver) while he paid the driver adding a very generous tip. Rachel felt frustrated. She didn't like for anyone to pay her stuff – well, except for her dads. In the other hand, she did like his touch and the way it seemed to linger over her. Once they left the cab it drove off, leaving them staring at the tall building. "It's on the last floor" Puck told her in a let's go manner.

A couple of security guards were standing on either side of the only elevator. There were no other doors, nowhere to go that she could see. She felt a little intimidated. Would they try and stop them? But Puck nodded at them and they simply nodded back as the elevator arrived to start its long way back up.

Neither said anything through the first ten floors. Rachel, as usual, was the first one to speak. "So, it's really high." She gave herself a mental kick. _Brilliant thing to say._ Puck looked at her, seemingly uncomfortable as well and offered "Yeah. It's supposed to have a great view."

The elevator at last arrived with a chime, and the doors opened to reveal a huge, expensively decorated lounge. There was an enormous bar filled with beautiful and colorful bottles, hunky barmen and model-looking waitresses. There were chaises and puffs everywhere, with couples elegantly spread over them. Rachel could see that most women carried Chanel bags and shoes with red underneath them. She knew pretty well that meant Louboutins. She looked down at herself and felt a little self conscious. _Well, good thing I bought a new dress. _Puck stiffened beside her, obviously uncomfortable as well.

The hostess quickly approached them, first with a sneer at Rachel and then finally smiling when she saw Puck's good looks. "The waitress will show you to your table" she indicated graciously. Puck rested his hand on the small of Rachel's back, guiding her towards the appointed seats. The waitress looked at Rachel with obvious contempt. Puck pulled the chair for Rachel, which made her feel a little victorious as the waitress looked surprised. Linda was her name, and she was a tall blonde. Rachel disliked pretty, model-looking women like her.

Linda set the menus in front of them and said she would be back soon with mineral water. Rachel opened hers and was shocked to see that it was completely written in French. Even the descriptions. She understood it a little bit, but she didn't feel confident enough to order a dish that wouldn't have meat on it. Puck, on the other hand, had quickly closed his and was looking cool as a cucumber. He smiled at her. "Ready to order?" He asked, just as the waitress appeared with their drinks. Linda looked eagerly at Puck "Anytime sir". Puck looked towards Rachel. "I don't know, maybe we need a little more time..?" Rachel, wanting to get rid of the woman who was looking at her purse obnoxiously, quickly ordered the first dish that came to her head. It was a part of the salad menu – that much she had understood – so there could be no error. Puck ordered the lamb. She'd forgotten he ate meat, since he had been accompanying her on a vegetarian diet. She didn't blame him. Men usually liked meat, and she'd never been a militant vegetarian.

They were sat at what probably was one the best tables in the house. It was right beside the glass wall, so Rachel had a magnificent view of the glowing city. _I'm going to spend half the money my dads deposited at my account this month, but the view makes it worth it. _When she finally tore her eyes from the city bellow, she turned towards Puck, who was looking at her with wonderment. "Beautiful, isn't it?" He had a twinkle in his eyes. Rachel blushed, not sure why. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Hmm, yes it is" she said quietly.

They talked a while longer and Rachel was starting to forget their surroundings and enjoy herself. She was laughing at something Puck had said when Linda arrived with their dishes – all smiles. She put a huge, succulent – not on Rachel's opinion – lamb accompanied of potatoes in front of Puck and a fresh looking salad _with snails _in front of Rachel. "Enjoy!"Linda said brightly.

Rachel's eyes were the size of tennis balls. Puck looked, shocked, first to Rachel's plate then to her face. He pressed his eyebrows together, obviously foreseeing disaster, and quickly called the waitress back. "Please, exchange her dish for one that is meat-free." Rachel's eyes went up by a notch. She'd never seen anyone returning a dish to the kitchen before. Well, except in movies. Linda looked towards Rachel, displeased. "But that is what _she_ asked". "Well, _Miss_ Berry made a mistake. Please be kind to amend that. I will pay for both dishes; she just won't have the first" Linda looked from him to her, and then nodded. "Right away, Sir. Courtesy of the house".

When Linda left, Rachel looked gratefully towards Puck. "You didn't have to" she told him kindly. "How am I to enjoy my lamb with you looking hungrily at me?" He winked at her. Rachel laughed. "You're evil." She rolled her eyes.

Soon enough her salad – sans meat, this time – arrived and she was able to enjoy it. It was pretty good, but not worth spending a fortune on. It was a onetime thing, for the view, so she enjoyed it as she should. Puck and Rachel talked and laughed throughout the entire evening. They even shared a strawberry tart, which seemed just the slightest undercooked to Rachel's tastes, a fact she pointed out to Puck. "You're a snob" he said, shoving her spoon playfully out of the way. Rachel laughed and shoved his spoon back. Soon they were having a spoon – shoving contest and laughing loudly, until the maitre gave them an ugly look. They stopped with a guilty look. "So" Puck looked up at her from the tart, in a sexy way, on Rachel's opinion, "when are you going to cook for me?" he said, putting the spoon on his mouth and looking intently at her. Rachel felt a little breathless to think of them alone in her apartment. _Jesus, I think the air conditioning must be failing in here. _She mentally fanned herself and forced her eyes to focus on him. "I don't know…" she said, putting a piece of strawberry on her mouth as well. "Maybe…this week?" She still had the spoon insider her mouth. He stared at her lips. Then he cleared his throat and checked the time. "It's late. Shall I ask for the check?" Rachel simply nodded. "So…breakfast in the morning, your place?" he asked with that trademark smirk of his. She raised one eyebrow. She didn't want to think on the implications of that. He quickly corrected himself. "I have a meeting very early tomorrow but I can show up with something for a brunch?" he told her, hopefully. She decided she didn't want to get away from it. "Sure! I'll make…pancakes or something."

Linda delivered the check directly to Puck with a big smile on her face. Rachel didn't even get a chance to see how much it had amounted to. She was upset over this, but figured she could make it up to him somehow by hosting a nice little brunch for them tomorrow. _Yeah, I know exactly how to pay him back. _ Oh, shut up, myself, she thought, putting her head in her hands on fatigue. "Shall we go?" She looked up at Puck, who was already standing. She smiled at him and made to stand. But, at the same time she was grabbing her purse, Linda came, out of nowhere, right beside her with the serving dishes from the couple at the next table. Rachel, not sure how, managed to knock the plates all over the lady and her _Lady Dior _purse_. _Rachel took one look at the disaster, horrified, and quickly started apologizing while the lady threw her a nasty look. The once white purse was stained by _primavera_ sauce. Puck quickly stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, murmuring "Let's go Rach". Rachel nodded, not sure what to do, and didn't even notice Puck quietly slipping a card with his phone number to the husband, such was the disgrace she felt.

They walked the walk of shame towards the elevator, the room seemingly silent, and Rachel felt every pair of eyes upon her. She tried to walk as quickly as she could without falling over and embarrassing herself any further. Those doors couldn't be open soon enough.

Once they entered the elevator, they stood there quietly, Puck's hands still on her shoulders. The descent went by in a blink, and soon Puck was nodding again at the security and they were out of the building.

As soon as they were hit with fresh air, they looked at each other and a wave of laughter hit Rachel, then hit Puck, such had been the absurdity of the situation. They laughed hard on the quiet night, their voices echoing on the tall buildings surrounding them. Rachel chuckled a little, then Puck offered her his arm, and they started walking their way back to her place, in a much lighter mood than while eating at the restaurant.

Puck seemed unaware that walking the streets of NY wasn't as safe as walking at that time of the night in Lima. But Rachel felt disheartened to tell him that. She felt so safe with him, and he seemed to enjoy walking around all the time.

And also they were having such a great time. They laughed, remembering the way the woman's eyebrows had twitched when she looked positively murderous.

But Rachel's mood fell when she spotted a woman sitting on the sidewalk, holding her crying baby close to her, obviously homeless. She stopped in her tracks, confusing Puck. Then he saw the woman and his face changed slightly as well. Rachel looked at him, said nothing, let go of his arm and walked towards the woman. Puck observed, from a distance, Rachel bending down to talk to her, the woman responding, then Rachel looking at the baby. Rachel asked her something, the woman vigorously shook her head no. Rachel insisted, but still the answer was no. Rachel gestured for her to wait, then went back to where Puck was.

She looked up at him "She refuses to go inside a Starbucks with me for something to eat" She sighed. "So I am going to buy her and her baby some food, diapers, then escort her to a woman's shelter I know. You can go home if you like, I know this mustn't be your idea of a fun night out" He quietly observed her, then took both her hands in his. "I'll walk you anywhere you need to go." Rachel smiled at him, squeezing his hands a little, turned towards the woman to assure her they would be back soon and started pulling Puck towards the nearest open place she could get the stuff.

Rachel seemed to know exactly where to go, which left Puck wondering if she had ever done that before. She certainly seemed quite sure of what she was doing. He looked at her, thoughtfully. "What" she asked, smiling, then rolling her eyes. "Is there something on my face?" "Do you always do that?" "What, buy diapers?" she said, putting 3 packages on a basket. He looked at her with mock impatience. "No, help people like that" Rachel looked at him seriously, then looked back to make sure she was buying the right kind of diapers. "If I am willing to spend on stuff – like dresses "she looked at him "why not help someone in need?" She turned towards the cashier.

Puck watched her as she reached for her wallet inside her purse. He then spotted a small plush animal, took it in his hands, seemed thoughtful for a while. Then he lifted it up so Rachel could see it. "Do you think her kid would like this?" Rachel looked up at what he was holding and smiled, nodding her head. He took out his wallet and went to the cashier to pay for the toy.

They were soon heading back, hands full with bags, towards where they found the lady. She seemed happy out of her mind when they showed her the contents. After making sure she could walk, they escorted her to the shelter, Rachel leading the way. Once they arrived, Puck noticed the receptionist already knew Rachel. His hunch had been right. She had done this before.

Convinced that the woman was safe at least for now, Rachel said goodbye to her – after being profusely thanked – pretty happy she had been able to help someone. She proceeded to explain to Puck that she felt her heart break every time she saw someone in need. So she had reasoned with herself that, instead of just feeling bad, she could actually do something. She had, sometimes, felt scared of how the person would react in the beginning, but she eventually got over it and now she did what she could. Feeling even lighter, Rachel left the shelter's building with Puck right behind her. Now her house wasn't far, and she slowed down a little so that Puck could catch up to her.

He reached for her hand that she had tucked behind her. He played with her hand a little, looked up to her to see her eyes bright and a big smile. He seemed enchanted for a moment. "You're full of surprises" His eyes were a bit dark and muddled with a feeling she couldn't quite grasp. He brought her hand up to his lips and placed a light kiss on the back of it that made Rachel suck her breath and shiver imperceptibly. He looked up at her with those eyes, but she noticed a slight change on them. They had darkened, if that was possible. Not at all in an unpleasant manner.

He then turned her hand over, and proceeded to kiss her palm, then her wrist, leaving a warm trail on Rachel's forearm. He was only lightly touching his lips to her skin, but it seemed to awaken her whole right side. She slightly bit her lip. He looked up at her, those dark eyes sending a shiver down her spine. She was curious by the intent way he was staring at her. They were already in front of her building and she was leaning against the building's wall. She felt a little cornered by him, from the way he was hovering around her, but not in a bad way. She looked up at him, feeling a flame on her chest. She then locked her eyes in his, at first hesitant, then more assertive as her confidence grew. "Do you want to come up?" There. She could barely believe she had said it, but she felt daring, a little like she felt in that night she sang Stripper. But she had been dizzy and drunk; now she was fueled by a completely different thing.

He just looked at her, smiled in a very sexy manner and leaned towards her ear. She leaned forward, the proximity of his skin making her neck tingle. "See you tomorrow, Rach" and gave her a peck on the cheek whilst squeezing her hand. With that he left, quickly disappearing away in the night.

Rachel was left alone, confused and not sure what to make of that. After a while she turned around and entered her building, feeling weary.

**This is the first time I've updated without having the next chapter completely written…but I had to publish this, I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer! Please review **


	5. Fantastic Scar

**Puck has some explaining to do, right? So this chapter is going to be from his POV, with bits of Rachel's, intertwined. As always, hope you enjoy it and thank you for your support!**

By the time Puck arrived at his hotel near Central Park it was already past midnight. After leaving Rachel _like that_ he had to cool his head, so he decided to take a walk. What a fiasco.

First he had taken her to the fanciest place he could find, under orientations of his hotel's Concierge, hoping to impress her. He should've known better. She hadn't complained at all, but he could clearly see that she doesn't care for _chic. _Then, she humbled him by helping that woman out on the street. And she apparently did that often.

Rachel was indeed full of surprises, and he was in awe of her. All through the night he made awkward passes at her, kicking himself mentally each time she let out an uncomfortable laugh. He was surprised she didn't leave him halfway through dinner.

But then she left the shelter so serene, so happy she had helped someone…and so vulnerable. She glowed in the moonlight and he found her irresistible. He was so drawn to her, her smell, her soft skin, her tinkling laughter. When he realized what he was doing, he was already pressing her against her building wall, and when she invited him up, he felt himself burn. But, thankfully, his good sense stopped him.

The thing was he would be leaving in two weeks. Expending the night with her and then leaving right after just wouldn't be right. He couldn't do that to Rachel.

What he couldn't admit was that he probably wouldn't be able to leave her if anything else happened.

So he had walked out, probably looking like an idiot, and she certainly hated him right now.

Puck sighed, ran a hand though his head whilst sitting down in his overly fluffy hotel bed. What could he do now? Act like nothing happened?

Yes, thought Puck, lying down. That was probably the best choice. _Right._ Tomorrow he would show up there with a basket of goodies and all would be forgotten.

On the next day he showed up at her door, said basket in hands, feeling slightly nervous. He had already announced himself and there was no turning back now. He raised his hand to ring the bell but stopped midway when he heard her yell "Come in!"

He opened the door instead to find Rachel curled up on the sofa, hair up in a ponytail, wearing a fluffy bathrobe and holding a mug of coffee on her hands. She looked a little like the other day when she was hangover, except there wasn't a maniac glint on her eyes like last time. Her eyes actually looked…_dull._

That sight gave him an estrange anxiety. She was oddly pale and looked a bit spaced out. He felt insecure. Was she upset about last night? Would she bite his head off? He tried to swallow all of those feelings and greet her like he normally would.

"Strawberry scone of blueberry muffin?" He said, holding up the basket, from his place by the door. She looked at him as though she had just acknowledged his presence. She barely noticed the basket. "Hi Puck" she gave a small smile. "You can…sit down wherever you like". She didn't get up. He looked anxiously towards her, deposited the basket over her kitchen counter and started fumbling around for tableware. He waited to see if she would notice what he was trying to do and give him instructions, but she never did. She was looking distractedly out of the window.

He arranged a blueberry muffin (a favorite of hers) on a plate for her, a mug of coffee for him and went to sit on the couch next to her. She took the plate from him, mumbled a "thanks" and put it aside, not actually eating any of it. He sipped his coffee, furrowing his eyebrows. Should he bring up the subject of last night? Apologize? He looked over. She still wasn't looking at him; she was absentmindedly staring at her records shelf.

He got out of the couch to sit on her armchair and took one of her hands in his. She looked down at the small contact and, for the first time since he arrived at her home, her small smile seemed sincere. That gave him a bit of confidence. He started. "Rachel, I'm sorry for last night" Her eyebrows shot up in confusion. She shook her head a little, then understanding washed over her features. Then her eyes fell. _Really? She hadn't been thinking at all about that? _Puck though. He didn't want to admit it, but that stung a little. On his ego, mostly, but there was also an uncomfortable heaviness to his chest.

She gave a little nervous laugh. "Well, yes…no problem. You can come over for tea anytime." She patted his hand and again stared blankly at her walls. He blinked and thought: _wtf. _He looked at his watch. _Damn. I have to be on the other side of town in 15 minutes. _He stood up.

"Rach, I have meetings all day long. But I'm performing tonight on that place at Greenwich Village, remember? There will be rehearsals starting at five." He grabbed a scone from the basket and turned towards the door. "See you there?" He sounded hopeful.

She looked up at him, not really registering what he was saying. She nodded a curt "sure" and remained on her seat as he walked out of her apartment.

Ten minutes later Puck had almost reached his destination, but his head wasn't on the upcoming meeting at all. He was confused by Rachel's reactions. She didn't seem angry; she seemed…lost, somehow.

"Hello. I have a meeting with Ms Willows. It's Noah Puckerman" he told the woman at the concierge of the fancy building he was on. She told him to go up to 5th floor. He walked over to the elevators, taking in his surroundings. All around him there were glass panels, modern-looking elevators and young, well-dressed people.

He had gotten used to playing the part of the refined businessman. It had been hard at first, but he hired a personal stylist, went through a few etiquette courses. He knew he had his chance then and he couldn't blow it. Thanks to that, his mother was living in a much better place and never worried about money anymore.

He adjusted his Armani suit. He always went out looking presentable, in case he met any potential clientele, but at home, in Lima, he'd rather wear and old band t-shirt. Rachel hadn't commented on this development. He didn't know whether that was a good thing, that Rachel didn't care for expensive clothing…or if it was a bad thing and Rachel actually didn't care for _him._

That thought bothered him and he tried to push it aside. He had to focus on business now. Dwellings on the motives for Rachel's weird behavior would have to wait.

Half an hour later his resolution wavered and he couldn't focus for the rest of meeting, during which he was given a tour of the company.

He was guided by Monica Willows, a well put-together woman in her late twenties; she looked like she had just exited a beauty salon, and he was under the impression that she sported that look every day. She was the one who decided to give him a tour, even though that was the office of a cosmetics brand, and he had no knowledge whatsoever of that matter.

Monica smiled a lot, except whenever she noticed that Puck had his head elsewhere, then she would get irritated and _he_ would pretend he didn't notice. She also made a few really bad passes at him, that he also pretended not to take notice, but apparently that wasn't being very effective.

"Mr Puckerman - Monica said, bending a little and exposing a lot of her cleavage all the while touching his shoulder – I think that we should extend this meeting to dinner, yes? There are clearly a few matters left open for discussion that are crucial.." Puck cut her, albeit gently. "I believe I have finished exposing my proposal. If you'd like more time to think about, I'm glad to give it to you" _Away from me, _he thought. "And I have to perform with my band tonight".

Puck didn't notice that that last bit of information lit up her eyes. Something occurred to him. _What day is today…?_ Then it hit him. The reason Rachel was so upset. Puck felt anger boil inside of him. He barely noticed when Monica offered herself to go watch him sing so he agreed to it.

Rachel was still sitting at her favorite armchair. She had been like that for…for how many hours now? She didn't know. For a long time, she assumed. She was extremely distraught today, and now that she thought about, she felt stupid for it. She shouldn't let herself fall to this condition.

She spotted the basket Noah had brought her and suddenly felt a little shamed. He had come by and she barely acknowledged him. Looking down she noticed she was hardly presentable. Upset over all of this, Rachel put both of her hands on her face in exasperation of herself. She shook her head. She had to get a grip.

She got up and walked to the basket to take a look and immediately felt worse. There were strawberries, vegan yogurt, several kinds of muffin, croissants and jelly. And she hadn't touched any of it, not even the blueberry muffin he had arranged on a plate for her. She picked it up and took a bite. She took it from her mouth to take a look at it; it was pretty good!

Regretting her early behavior, she started looking around, helpless, for a way to redeem herself. Suddenly, she spotted it. Her new recipes book! She smiled a little. She would apologize with cookies at his band practice today.

Rachel ran to her room to change and go out to buy the ingredients. She would even use eggs this time. It was for a good cause.

Four hours later, two batches of cookie – the first one hadn't looked right – a shower and one hour entirely dedicated to her outfit – it was a nightclub! She couldn't just dress in rags – she was at the club's door. They already knew her, so she went right in without any problems. This time there were no revolted girls because it was still early and there was no line outside yet.

But as she entered the club she saw every other member of Puck's band there, practicing, except for Noah himself. She felt a tug of disappointment. Smiling nonetheless, she said brightly when they spotted her "Who wants cookies?"

They all got up, saying hello to her and thanking for the cookies, which they all ate and complimented. Rachel sat at the corner of the stage, saving a few cookies for Puck, and asked casually "Where is Noah?" He said he would be here, she added in her thoughts. None of them said anything, exchanging suspiciously meaningful glances between them, until David spoke up "Well, he had a meeting today that was probably longer than he expected. He should be here soon." "Ok" She said, nodding and smiling politely, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

Rachel thought about leaving at first, but she just found depressing the idea of going back to spend Saturday alone at her place, _today of all days, _after spending so much time on her make-up. She was feeling a bit of a fool, though, with all that liner in her eyes, sitting on the edge of a stage and waiting.

However, the band was pretty used to her presence by now, so they started laughing and joking with her and soon she felt more comfortable.

She was laughing at something David said when she heard her nickname being called. "Hey Rach!" She looked up to see Nick, the drummer, calling her with a smile. "Do you play the drums?" She shook her head no. "Wanna learn?" She shrugged and went towards him. Drums weren't quite the most useful instrument for her to learn about. You never saw someone playing drums and singing a solo at the same time. Playing the piano, yes. The guitar, sure. But drums? She figured it couldn't hurt for her to learn a bit just for fun, though.

He moved over so she could sit at the stool and smiled charmingly at her. He resembled Sam a lot, sans the trouty mouth thing. She sat down and he passed her the sticks. Then he put his hands over hers and gave the cue for the others to start playing. And they soon joined in, him directing with his hands where she should hit. It was messy and sounded awful and she soon started to laugh. They started playing a faster tune and she had to go crazy on the drums to accompany it. She was laughing harder, Nick, behind her, still with his hands over hers, laughed with her. The other guys stopped playing all of a sudden. She looked up to see what was going on and spotted Puck. And she noticed two things about him.

One: he was looking straight at her and he didn't look happy.

Two: there was a tall, leggy blonde beside him, talking to him nonstop.

Rachel's forehead creased. Who was she and what was she doing there? Maybe she was someone from the club? But as Puck moved towards the backstage (to get his guitar, Rachel assumed) she followed him, talking all the way, apparently of a subject that had started before they entered the club. She was with him. Rachel assumed that they had come together from whatever place they were in. She felt a little disconcerted by that realization.

As he walked back, he took another somber look at her, the blonde still on his tail. He looked back at the leggy girl and smiled, commenting on something that she said. Rachel suddenly felt annoyance bubble up inside her. Why did he keep giving her those looks? He hadn't even said hi to her. Did he not want her to be there? Surely she had been kind of…rude this morning, but wouldn't he even give her a chance to explain? Her head started searching frenetically for explanations. Maybe he was worried that her being there might ruin his chances with the blonde. She looked again at the girl. She was skinny, tall, older than Rachel but wearing an even shorter skirt than Rachel herself was wearing. She didn't look like she belonged in that club though, with her posh clothes and snobby attitude. Rachel looked down, pursed her lips and made a decision.

She quietly went up to the stage where the guys were – minus Puck – and said it had been fun, but that she had to be somewhere else. She turned her back and started leaving, but Nick went after her.

"Rach, don't leave just yet. People will start coming in about ten minutes, and we'll start playing in half an hour. It won't be long, you could stay just to see us play and then leave. We were even hoping you could… guest perform" He mumbled that last part. Rachel hadn't been paying attention to what he was saying, instead looking at Puck, who was staring at them with a strange look in his face that she didn't like. Blondie was laughing seductively at something he had said. Then Rachel heard Nick use the word "guest perform". That immediately drew her attention back to him. "What, me, sing with you guys?" She looked back at the blonde and suddenly felt the oddest feeling: she felt like a lioness putting her claim over a territory. She narrowed her eyes, then looked back at Nick, who had been staring at her expectantly. She smiled "Sure, Nick. What will I be singing?" "Whatever you want to" he told her with a smile. _Whatever I want to_, she thought, bitterly looking back at Noah, who had his full attention turned towards Blondie now.

Rachel took the stage more forcefully than she had in a long time. Her tiny self filled the room with her presence, and the club, half-full by now, went silent in anticipation of the performance. She took the microphone from David, who handed it to her. She adjusted it on the stand and swept her eyes through the crowd. Noah chose that moment to look at her. He looked oddly at her and she didn't know what to make of that look. He seemed apprehensive of her. As if he didn't know what she would do. _You still don't know me after all this time, Noah. _She whispered something to David and the music began. She had chosen Terra Naomi's "I'm Happy".

_This city's just waiting to crack_

_This House is not a Home_

_This is me Under Atack_

_This is my self control _

She began quietly, looking down, and then looking up at the last line. Puck was looking intently at her.

_And I thought you were somebody else_

_I thought you were somebody else_

_I thought you were somebody…_

Her voice almost strained, but she managed – just barely – to maintain it straight. She felt her eyes water as she continued with the next couple of verses.

_Why don't we take a step back_

_Examine what you are_

Her voice sounded thunderous even to her own ears, she had filled the room like she hadn't in years.

_You're where the line goes slack_

_You're a fantastic scar_

At this point she looked at him and saw a pained expression on his face. He looked down. She went on, straining herself more with each verse.

_Ooh, ooh, oh ah_

_I'm happy, I'm happy, I'm happy,_

_I'm happy_

_I'm happy._

She pushed out the last verses in anguish, with a big effort. She felt anything but happy, but the song was perfect nonetheless. She put the mic back on the stand, and left the stage, desolated even under applause of the public. She headed towards the exit of the club, head down, hoping that she could reach the street before her tears fell. Fortunately there was a cab nearby, which quickly entered and gave her address quietly to the driver. She reclined her head against the cold glass and tried to make sense out of it all. She still didn't know what had happened, but the look Puck had been giving her hurt too much. He had looked at her with contempt. She thought she would never let anybody make her feel this bad after Finn, but here she was, being pretty much slapped in the face again.

Rachel was so lost in thought that she didn't take the time to look back to the club's door. If she had, she would've seen a distressed Puck looking at both sides of the street, searching for her.

Later that night, Rachel couldn't sleep. It had been an hour since she'd gotten home, changed out of her clothes, and put her pajamas on. She had paced around her apartment, searching for anything that would make her feel sleepy. She tried reading books she'd found boring, but she couldn't even concentrate on them. She kept reading the same line, over and over again, which caused her anxiety, which, in turn, only worsened her insomnia. Frustrated, she gave up, got out of bed and went to sit by her window.

It was a rainy night and there was no one to be seen at the nearby streets. She would say it was a perfect New York night. Yes, it represented the other side of the city that never slept. The lonely side, the one that was hardly seen by visitors. New York was the city that held disconnected people, she felt. Rachel touched her forehead against the cold glass. Yes. You could only truly see the city when you were on your own.

Rachel got up, walked to her shelf on the living room and just stood there, staring blankly at her record collection. An Aretha Franklin piece caught her attention and she touched it fondly. She remembered, in Mercedes' voice, the words to "Ain't no Way" that couldn't, for some reason, get out of her head. That was the song she had been humming the whole week, she realized. The thought of Mercedes on that night, with her amazing voice, brought a smile to her lips. She suddenly missed everything very much, even the things she didn't know she missed.

Rachel silently walked up to where her telephone was, picked it up and dialed a number. There was no answer, it simply went to voicemail. The beep sounded.

"Happy Birthday, Finn."

**Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Please leave them in a review! Thank you for reading. The next chapter shouldn't take too long.**


	6. I Sacrificed My Blues

**Sorry this took me so long! It was a difficult chapter to write…and life just got in the way of it. But I'm here now! **

**As always, hope you enjoy it and thank you for all your support!**

Rachel cried most of the night like she hadn't in years. She put on some Adele and just let it all out, thinking of all the reasons she had to cry.

She'd long before gotten used to the dull ache that was Finn in her life. Or rather, out of her life. He hadn't been a part of it for a long time now, and so that pain was more of a bother that lurked just underneath and sometimes jumped out to show its claws.

Puck had made a fresh wound. She hadn't known how much she missed having company until he showed up in her life. Maybe Finn was just the last person who had known her well and she missed having that. She didn't know.

Her mother rejected her when she was born and then again when she was in High School.

She never felt truly accepted anywhere.

She was…_she was short._

At one point she didn't even know what she was crying about anymore, but she couldn't deny it felt damn good.

She got tired of crying and stopped. She stared at her walls for a bit. Then, she started laughing. _Really, crying because I'm short? _She laughed softly, but still, she figured she really must be crazy now.

She felt her soul cleansed nonetheless.

Feeling worn out by all of her crying and much calmer, she drifted off to sleep.

On the morning after, she opened her eyes, reveling on the softness of her bed. A small smile appeared on her lips. She turned on her side, willing herself to sleep just a little longer…

Her Intercom rang. Cursing a bit under her breath, she got up to answer, already imagining what she would find.

Or rather, _who._

She put on her bathrobe and walked towards her door. She found Noah already waiting when she opened it. _With flowers._

Her eyes went huge when she acknowledged the size of the bouquet. It covered up almost the entirety of his torso. She could even spot some Colombian roses in the middle of it.

Her dads had a garden back in Lima. She knew that was a very _expensive _bouquet.

His attempt of buying her didn't come off as so much of a surprise. Puck had a history of always trying to escape his problems the easiest way, and now that he had money…

For him, nowadays, spending money certainly was easy enough.

She was actually more surprised by the expression in his face. He showed remorse. Penitence. Even regret.

It was that, rather than the bouquet, what made her step out of the way and let him into her house.

He looked at her hesitantly, than gained a little confidence when she motioned for him to come in. He smiled, regaining a bit of his cockiness.

She rolled her eyes at his back.

She wasn't mad or hurt anymore by his actions of the day before. It had been a reflex reaction, but once she thought about, she realized they had both been thick - headed and stubborn.

She was, on the other hand, mad at him forthe miscommunication going around between them. She had opened up way more than he had. She had made herself vulnerable while he held all the power. A part of her had thought his quietness and "in control persona" were sexy, but he was just damn playing her by now.

On one night, she stood there like an idiot, waiting for him to kiss her, and he just left.

On the other, he storms the club like a nervous bull that discovered his harem of cows was being raided by another male.

He would have to explain to her what was up with _that._ She crossed her arms and stood in front of him, looking up. _He'd better start talking._

He talked. More like muttered under his breath while staring intently at her.

"Fuck, Rachel." Her eyes went huge. She didn't like his choice of words.

Still, he looked very sincere in his swearing, almost as if they were back in High School again. This, oddly, comforted her.

She didn't let it show, though.

"What is the matter with you?" She yelled at him. He drew back from her a couple steps, apparently taken aback by the sheer volume of her powerful voice.

He looked down and seemed to consider things for a while. He still hadn't spoken much and he was apparently measuring his words.

"You…made my life complicated" he admitted at last, with some effort. She stared in disbelief at this revelation. She huffed and went to sit by the sofa. He followed, a bit scared, and sat down beside her.

She looked at him, her arms crossed, annoyance clear from the way her left eyebrow was raised. When he said nothing, just stared back at her in a hesitant manner, she barked out "I would like the details on the story of how I made your life "complicated", as you put it".

He sighed. His prospects weren't good.

"I'm sorry" His eyes were closed and his expression showed, indeed, regret, but also tiredness. Like he'd put himself in a difficult situation and only now saw the consequences of it. Her expression softened. But not enough so that he would think he was off the hook.

"I know yesterday was Finn's birthday and I figured that was why you were…out of it." He told her sincerely. It was her turn to look down, cheeks glowing slightly red from embarrassment. She couldn't deny that had been the reason.

She would have to say something, too.

"I'm sorry too, for…ditching our brunch. But in my defense, I-" She began, raising her head again in protest.

"I know. – He cut her off - Nick told me. You baked cookies for the band." He smirked a little at her. A sudden bolt of anger shot through her as she remembered the pathetic way in which she'd waited for him, all made up, sitting on the floor, only to have him show up with Blondie.

"They were for you!"She burst out angrily and suddenly, standing up. "Isn't it obvious?" She turned away from him childishly, crossing her arms again. It made her mad that he would play so thick.

He took her by the shoulders and turned her towards him once more. His touch made her feel calmer, even though she didn't want to relax. She wanted to yell at him some more.

She could see his tiredness turn into a bit of exasperation.

"The truth is – he started explaining, face mere inches from hers – that I like you. I like you, ok?" He admitted, somewhat afraid of her reaction. She opened her mouth to stammer something, but he went on, effectively cutting her off. "But you're obviously still hooked on Finn and I'm leaving in a few days. I wanted to stay away". He said that last bit with a resentful undertone and took a few steps back.

"Yeah? And you did a great job of staying away, didn't you?" She shot at him, sarcastically.

He sighed. "I couldn't help it. I couldn't- wouldn't- stay away from you". He told her earnestly, and she noticed he was searching her eyes for her true feelings about it.

She was, to say the least, surprised. She wasn't expecting him to say that, _like that,_ and leave her disarmed. She sighed too, torn between the warmness that threatened to spread over her and her leftover annoyance. She still had a few things to say.

_Why did he have to smell so good and say such nice things and make staying mad at him hard?_

She decided that a cold approach was the best she had.

"I'm not a doll" She stared at him, her eyes hard. "Whether I am or not still hooked on Finn is my own problem and not yours." She took a little pause, waiting for it to sink in. His exasperation seemed to grow and she didn't know what to make of it. "And also – she inched her face closer to his – don't I get a say on anything? What does it matter that you're leaving in a few days? Am I not worthy of your little time in NY?" She said in a low, bitter, provocative tone.

He drew in a sharp breath, seemingly annoyed. He looked like he thought _she _was the one who was playing thick now. Tired of their game, he seemed to decide boldness was the best course.

"Rachel, you're a virgin" He told her matter-of-factly. She drew back from him as though she had been slapped. Her face was red all over and she turned her back towards him, angry, walking away from him to stand by her window. He went after her.

"First- she pointed a finger at his face, livid - that is none of your business. Second, Noah Puckerman won't give his time of the day to a girl who isn't _experienced_? Is that what this is about?" She shouted at him, not minding that he was standing less than a foot away from her. He realized, from her expression, that maybe that hadn't been the best course to take. His features softened.

"I didn't pursue you any harder because I think you deserve better than a guy who is only in town for a couple of weeks." He meant to tuck a lose strand of her hair behind her ear, but she turned her face away.

She could identify pain and regret in his voice and eyes, but it was too late.

She stopped pacing and looked at him, eyes glinting with unshed tears. His words were bittersweet to her. She saw the longing in his eyes. She could tell that _maybe_ they'd come from a place of caring.

But maybe he simply hadn't wanted her enough and that was just an excuse, so she couldn't help but feel rejected one more time.

And that feeling made her want to cry, but she didn't want to do it in front of him. She felt more pathetic than ever. She was going to cry because a guy told her he wouldn't sleep with her? She swallowed hardly.

"Puck, please" He looked anxiously, his eyebrows creased, at her. "You have to leave" She looked up at him, eyes red. He glanced at her, consternated, a hint of sadness in his eyes. He gave a curt nod, then turned his back to her, and walked slowly out through the front door.

She sat down on her favorite armchair and looked at the bouquet he left behind. She sobbed, hard, and tears started rolling thickly through her cheeks.

For the next couple of days her feelings alternated between resentment towards Puckerman, pity for herself, shame for all the above, anger again, etc.

She also went through a whole cycle of sorrow: first she cried until she saw no point in it anymore. Then she decided to move on with her life. Later she felt like she would cry again, stuffed her face instead, and went to sleep. She'd even forgotten to prepare for her final presentation of the semester.

Which, she realized after lazily pressing "slumber" on her alarm clock, was _today. _And obviously, she was already late for it.

"Oh, _shit._"

Cursing under her breath, she ran from her home towards the subway, barely having time to dress. She had thrown on a simple black dress that just happened to be there and was wearing no makeup at all. Not even moisturizer or sun block. _Really, I look like crap_.

And she would be watched and evaluated by a whole set of teachers today. Could her day get any better? No, it definitely couldn't, she concluded.

She would flunk an important subject and it was her own fault. She'd been so caught up on her stupidity with boys that she had forgotten that she had to take care of herself _first_.

The truth was one: she was alone in NY, and it was up to her to take care of herself. And she had failed.

She was inside the subway now, slouched on the bench, feeling awful for not having prepared anything at all. She was already doing badly overall, despite a slight improvement in the last few weeks. A sloppy performance now would definitely sink her academic career.

She straightened on her seat. She ought to be used to failure by now, she thought. She'd always been clumsy with her life, but lately she could never seem to get anything together anymore.

All she could do now was randomly pick a song and pray that she would be good. Maybe she would sing "Don't rain on my parade". It had worked miracles once…

Sighing, she put both hands inside her pocket. She felt something velvety inside it and pulled the thing out. On a quick inspection, she noticed it was a rose button from Puck's bouquet.

She had no idea how it had, effectively, found its way to her pocket, but she figured it must've been this morning when she hastily put it in a vase with some water, right before leaving her apartment. _What?_ She couldn't waste the bouquet.

She looked down at the button and a memory she'd forgotten she'd had popped up in her mind.

She was still in high school, and one day, during their brief relationship, Puck brought her a single rose. It wasn't Colombian; as a matter of fact, he admitted he'd stolen it from his neighbor's garden. She chastised him for it, even though she'd secretly enjoyed receiving the flower. She had never gained flowers from anyone before, though she never told him that.

She'd appreciated that, despite his "I couldn't care less" attitude, he'd still looked intently in her eyes to see whether she'd liked the flower or not. She sighed. She'd long noticed that despite his bad boy attitude, he was a romantic at heart. He'd shown it to her again and again over the years, like the time he chose glee club over the football team.

She smiled to herself, still staring at the rose button in her lap. She fiddled with it until arriving at her stop, then jumped out of the train and walked towards Juilliard's entrance, still thinking of Puck.

Music started playing in her head. She had her song.

Later in her bed, she thought back on the day's events and smiled. In the end she'd killed in her performance of "Court and Spark" by Joni Mitchell. She even got applause and praise from her teachers. They'd said it was an emotional, yet down to earth performance, both respecting the genre and lending a personal ring to it.

It hit her, as she was walking up the steps to Juilliard, that she had to care for herself. And also that Noah, of all people, had realized it before her. _He _had cared for her through all of those years.

Her self-deprecation and longing for something she knew she could never have had put her at the bottom.

But he had come to NY and shaken up her routine. He'd shown her her own city, taught her how to see it differently.

She realized that he'd seen everything about her: what she chose to show him and what she hid as well. Patronizing as it may have been, he gave her what he felt she needed: to worry about herself; her future, her career.

She entered the building, washed with confidence, filled with warm feelings about a certain guy.

On the following day, Rachel's excitement at finally starting to get back to singing shape hadn't yet faded. But there was one thing dampening her mood and she wouldn't feel totally good until she solved it.

Puck would be leaving tonight. And she hadn't spoken a word to him after throwing him out of her house. She needed to amend that.

Leaving her place, she started towards his hotel. She hoped she would find him there, even though it was a long shot, because now she had no idea of his busy schedule anymore. She had no idea what she would say to him and she felt nervous about it. He could always rebuff her and call her ridiculous. But if her assertion of him had been right, he wouldn't.

And she quite hoped her assertion of him wasn't wrong. Otherwise she was about to make a fool of herself.

But, if she thought about it, it didn't matter what he said anymore. He'd helped pull her out of her funk.

And even though Rachel Berry didn't need any man telling her she was worth something, he had shown her she, out of all people, should like herself the best. She felt awakened, with good prospects for the future. And she wanted him to see her like that.

She was shocked, upon arriving at the hotel, to find him at the front, loading a yellow cab with his bags and guitar case. He was doing it by himself, even though there were about half a dozen nervous-looking bellboys around him, eager to help.

She hurried to the spot he was at, her stomach churning, nervous that she didn't know what to say now that she was actually standing near him. He turned towards her, not really showing surprise that she was there. He said nothing.

They stood there staring at each other, for a minute or two, his eyebrows creased, a nervous, contrite smile on her lips. He was the first one to look away and sigh. She felt a small surge of relief. Not having to stand under his scrutiny was what actually prompted her to talk.

"I called all the shots" She suddenly told him. She knew that came out as cryptic, but she thought he would understand. He did.

He nodded. "Yep. You did." He looked back at her, then away again, scratching the back of his neck, but not seeming in a hurry to leave.

She felt hopeful now. She had been right about him. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize." He looked back at her and, this time, didn't turn away. She felt the power and intensity of his gaze. He let out a breath and put an arm over her shoulders. "I know kiddo, I know. My badassness fools many people." She laughed at his patronizing ways, her heart much lighter. He smiled at her.

Suddenly he turned her towards him and she found herself under his intense gaze, his face serious once more. "It could be months before I'd be back." She sobered too and held his gaze. "I know" She answered, nodding slightly. "I understand" She completed.

He looked away again, seeming to consider wether or not to say something.

"I have something for you" She eyed him curiously while he fished for something inside his jacket pocket. She went scared when he finally pulled it out and she saw it was a Tiffany Blue Box. She thought he'd gone mental for a moment, and it must have shown on her face, because he chuckled slightly and opened the box for her to see. It was a golden necklace with an 'R' pendant encrusted with a single, small, diamond.

It was elegant, gorgeous and expensive looking. Which was exactly why she couldn't accept it. Even if she wanted to.

She shook her head compulsively. He took the necklace out of the box and motioned for her to turn around so he could put it around her neck.

"No, no, Noah…no, I can't" He insisted, a determined expression on his face. Upon seeing her face grow red with embarrassment his expression softened.

"When we were dating, I couldn't afford to give you anything. I'm making up for it." That saddened her a little. She never, ever, thought that he owed her something. It hadn't even crossed her mind that that could've been an issue for him.

She was also moved by the longing in his voice. Like he wished he could've done something different back then. She didn't know if had been her imagination or if it was really there, but, in the end, it was what prompted her to accept his gift.

She turned around, back turned towards him, signaling she would wear it. He seemed pleased by her change of mind and hurriedly clasped it around her neck. She turned back around, smiling at him.

"I'll see you around?" She asked, wanting to part from him on a light tone. He nodded. "Sure. We'll keep in touch in the mean time." They stared at each other wordlessly, neither quite wanting to part but not knowing exactly what to say either. Puck reached forward to give her a hug, and she easily slipped into his arms.

The hug lasted a little longer than socially acceptable hugs between friends should; but it didn't last long enough to raise (much) suspicion from the bellboys watching the whole exchange.

Not that the necklace hadn't given anything away.

They shared their last goodbyes and Puck turned around to enter the fully loaded cab. He waved her goodbye one last time, and Rachel stood there, watching the cab drive off, already clutching the little "R" and wondering whether he would keep his promise to contact her and just how much he would miss her.

Because she sure felt like she would miss him. A lot.

**I know…there's a "Complete" over there and you guys just hate me right now! I'm sorry. It had to end here. This was more about Rachel's journey of self-discovery, and that's why there isn't much Puck in it after all. **

**But…there will be a sequel. Fear not. **

**Also, please listen – or at least take a look at the lyrics of – Court and Spark. It's a beautiful song, and, like all the other songs mentioned on this fic, a significant part of the plot. I imagine Rachel's version to be more like Norah Jones' than Joni's, but well, that's just me and my head. Feel free to imagine it any way you like it =D**


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